


Right Down in My Favorite Place

by spuffyduds



Category: due South
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prettttttty much just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Down in My Favorite Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wagnetic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagnetic/gifts).



> Added after reveal: a million thanks to my lovely snd speedy beta Queue.

After a rough work day like this Fraser needs--well, a rough night. He used to have to ask, and he couldn’t always manage. That was part of the fallout of a rough day, that feeling that any request for his own needs could make it to the tip of his tongue and no further, that he couldn’t keep from biting it back. He could feel it all evening, sometimes, “I need--I need,” hitting the back of his teeth and never making it out. But they’re--so in tune, now; now he doesn’t have to ask, all he has to do is stop meeting Ray’s eyes once they’re in the shelter of their apartment. Look at Ray’s body all he wants, talk to him and cook with him and wash the dishes with him but not raise his eyes all the way to make contact. And that doesn’t even feel like a decision, doesn’t feel like a request, doesn’t feel like anything he _could_ bite back, just feels like what _happens_ when he feels like this, just feels like what his body does.

And then, finally, Ray puts his hand heavily on the back of Fraser’s neck, squeezes a little, says, “You need it bad tonight, huh?”

Fraser meets his eyes then because that’s a rule, Ray has to look him in the eyes and make sure he’s really up for it, and says, finally, gratefully, “Yes.”

Ray grins at him. It’s always so good to see that, to see that Ray is just as excited as Fraser about this, that it’s not too much work for him. Sometimes, even when he’s deep in these evenings, Fraser has a flash of guilt that Ray’s doing all the work, taking all the responsibility, but that’s happening less and less.

“Probably good Dief’s on a sleepover,” Ray says. Fraser nods, because Dief does tend to get a bit--eye-roll-y during these activities. But tonight, fortuitously, he’s at Bruce’s. Their growing friendship has, quite to Fraser’s surprise, revealed Dief’s heretofore-hidden interest in chatting about higher mathematics.

Ray holds his gaze for a while, and evidently likes whatever he sees in Fraser’s face because he drops the dishtowel, smiles even wider and says, “Strip.”

Fraser turns toward the bedroom, and Ray grabs him by the arm, hard. He’s dropped the grin, and his voice is tight and loud when he says, “I said strip, and I meant now. Here.”

Fraser ducks his head in apology and feels the last vestiges of the day drop away from him with the last shreds of control.

He peels off his t-shirt briskly--sometimes Ray likes a slow strip tease, but he always makes it clear when that’s the case. Fraser drops the shirt on the floor--that took some training--and adds his jeans and boxers. He was already barefoot; it just now occurs to him that that taking off boots and socks as soon as he gets home is something he tends to do on these nights. Becoming part of asking for it, apparently.

Once he’s naked he stands as still as he can while Ray looks him slowly up and down, face expressionless. “As still as he can” is never really all that still; while he can be a steadfast tin soldier in front of the Consulate for hours, naked in front of Ray always leads to shivers, partly from the drafty apartment--it is winter in Chicago, after all--but largely from anticipation.

Ray steps closer, finally, reaches out, still expressionless, and takes hold of Fraser’s chin, firmly. Fraser can’t resist leaning into his hand a little, and Ray chuckles, then wraps both arms around Fraser’s waist, holds him tight and nuzzles his neck gently. Ray is so very, very warm, even through his clothes, and the dissonance of being entirely stripped, entirely vulnerable while Ray is still fully dressed drags a moan out of Fraser.

“That’s good,” Ray says. Encouraged, Fraser moans louder, and louder still once Ray gets his teeth into Fraser’s shoulder. He nips gently at first, then harder, and sucks hard as well. That’ll leave marks, but Ray’s always careful about making sure it’s below collar level.

“Considerate,” Fraser manages to mumble. Ray pulls back and gives him a quizzical look. “Placement,” Fraser says; he can’t seem to manage full sentences.

“You think I do that so you won’t get embarrassed?” Ray says. He shakes his head and then smiles the slow , somehow predatory smile he saves for these times.

He leans in close and says quietly in Fraser’s ear, “Nah. It’s because I’m the only one who gets to see the marks I put on you.”

Fraser gives up on even trying to talk and just whimpers.

“Bedroom,” Ray says, and Fraser obeys.

Ray’s just behind him when he walks into the room and when Fraser stops abruptly Ray walks right into him.  


“What?” Ray says, and with the direct question Fraser manages, “No further instructions.”

“I tell you bedroom, _all_ you do is go into the bedroom, huh? You playing letter-of-the-law games with me, buddy?” Ray says, and when Fraser turns to look, he’s pulling off the stern look but not quite managing to keep all the amusement out of his voice.

Fraser says, “I’m sorry, Ray,” anyway, and Ray says, “Yeah, okay, but you gotta pay for it.”

“Yes,” Fraser says, and when Ray motions toward the bed he crawls up onto it quickly, then stays on his hands and knees.

“Close your eyes,” Ray says, and Fraser does, but listens as hard as he can, and grins when he hears the unmistakable slithery sound of the nylon ropes being pulled from between the mattress and the headboard.

When they were first experimenting with bondage, Fraser drew up an elaborate plan to modify the bed with multiple screw-in eyes through which the ropes would run in complex (and, if he says so himself, _pretty_ ) patterns. Ray blinked at the drawing and said, “Fraser, damn, that’s impressive, but I’m not gonna walk into the bedroom and panic about failing Ship Rigging 101.”

Fraser sulked at bit at the time, but he has to admit that Ray’s alternative procedure--picking up the mattress, laying two long ropes across the box spring in an x with the ends hanging out, putting the mattress back--was cheap, took two minutes, and works like a charm.

“On your back,” Ray says, and Fraser flips himself over, actually bounces a bit when his back hits the mattress.

“Little eager?” Ray laughs, and then there’s a warm hand tight around Fraser’s wrist and Ray goes back to serious pay-attention voice and says, “Everything good? Stop and think.”

Fraser wants desperately to just blurt “yes” and get on with it, but he follows orders, he takes a couple deep slow breaths and checks in with his body. He has no one to blame but himself for the minor delay, which he knows on some level is a good idea; he suggested this ritual check-in after one session when he made it all the way through the tying-up process coasting on desire and then discovered, to his embarrassment, that he desperately, unignorably needed a bathroom break.

“Everything’s good,” he says, and he can’t help it, he opens his eyes and just beams at Ray because, really, everything. Everything is so good now.

Ray grins back, and gets to tying. Fraser loves the whole process, loves that Ray is using knots that Fraser himself taught him (and that was its own erotic torture, watching Ray’s fingers dance with the ropes over and over, knowing what the practice was for.) Loves that Ray takes his time, is careful, mutters under his breath sometimes about rabbits and holes, loves that Ray creates beautifully-done, snug and clasping but not in the least painful restraints on wrists and ankles. Loves most of all that he ends up spread-eagled, no slack, no options, no decisions available or needed.

He never knows what’s coming next. This time Ray strips quickly,then simply stretches out on him, legs between Fraser’s but arms aligned, hands reached out to clasp his. Just lies there for a few moments, and the pressure and warmth are lovely but Fraser can’t keep from rocking his hips up minutely.

“None of _that_ ,” Ray growls, and then bites him sharply on that already-tender spot on his shoulder. Fraser gasps but forces his body to relax, to do what it’s told.

Ray sits up then, arranges himself so he’s not touching Fraser at all. “You still gotta pay for that little stopping-in-the-doorway stunt,” he says.

Fraser nods, and Ray reaches out and, to Fraser’s surprise, immediately begins stroking Fraser’s cock. Fraser was expecting some of the painplay they’ve experimented with. The nipple clamps, in particular, hover right on that fine personal line between pleasurable pain and _pain_ pain, and would seem logical for a mock punishment; it’s hard to interpret Ray’s fingertips tracing gently up and down his cock as anything but a reward.

Some unknown time later, Fraser begins to rethink this evaluation. Because Ray is _still_ petting gently, damnit, just fingertips teasing up and down, never enough pressure for Fraser to _get_ anywhere that’s anywhere near relief. He’s just stuck on a crest of desire; sometime in this torture which might have been going on for fifteen minutes or an hour, his eyes drifted closed again and stayed that way, so there’s nothing in the world but Ray’s fingers and Ray’s voice, talking softly and cheerfully about how Fraser’s maybe not coming tonight, how he maybe doesn’t deserve to after that little doorway stunt, does he?

“ _Do_ you?” he says, and his fingers are still moving, circling. They haven’t played with him not coming before, that’s a new thing, and terrifying and very, very exciting, and Fraser’s possibly dying from Ray’s fingers and from terrified excitement.

“FRASER. CHECK IN,” Ray says, voice abruptly shifting out of that soft amused teasing into a barked order and oh, yes, there was a question there, what was it?

Sorry,” Fraser says, forcing his eyes open. Ray’s right in his face, looking a little concerned, and Fraser’s own voice sounds slow and strange and almost drugged, even to himself. “I was...question...what was it?”

“Table that for a second. You with me?” Ray reaches out and taps shave-and-a-haircut on Fraser’s sternum with two fingers.

“Two bits,” Fraser says, smiling.

“Okay,” Ray says. “You were breathing kinda funny.”

“It--the maybe not coming--that’s new.” 

“Shouldn’t have sprung that on you? I was just kinda, it came up in the moment and I ran with it, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, don’t--it’s good, it’s scary but good, it’s good scary,” Fraser says. His vocabulary and syntax tend to desert him almost utterly on these nights, but Ray never seems to mind.  
“

Too scary?”

“No, no, carry on, carry scary,” Fraser says, and he’s completely babbling now but Ray grins and, hallelujah, carries on.

He curls a hand around Fraser’s cock now, still too softly for much progress, but at least there’s _some_ pressure and oh god, oh god, now he’s dipping his head to nuzzle gently at Fraser’s balls.

Fraser moans hopefully and Ray raises his head to say “Don’t come,” and this terrible instruction is immediately followed by his hand tightening and speeding up.

“Oh _god_ , Ray, please.”

“Nope,” Ray says with evil cheer, and then makes matters even worse by beginning to use his tongue. Just soft little laps at the balls, but at this point that almost puts Fraser almost over the edge.

“I can’t--I can’t--”

“Okay,” Ray says, and _stops_.

Fraser just whimpers. He doesn’t think he’s even _trying_ for words. No particular words come to mind. He has no mind to have words in.

After a minute or two the whimpers fade into heavy breathing, and Ray says, “You under control now?”

“I suppose,” Fraser says, and Ray _starts again_ , but worse, because after saying, “Tell me when you’re close again,” he takes Fraser’s cock in his mouth.

“Oh _fuck_ you,” Fraser says, and he can feel Ray laughing around his cock.

Fraser loses track of how many times he goes through this torture, of being brought to the brink and, to his own astonishment, interrupting his mumbled string of curses to obediently _tell_ Ray every time, only to have Ray back off until Fraser’s come down from the ragged edge. Five, six, some hellish number.

Finally, after stopping the beautiful sucking one more excruciating time, Ray crouches up beside him and starts to jack himself. Fraser reaches to help , forgetting his bonds; Ray clasps Fraser’s hand with one of his own while he brings himself off with the other, splashing warm across Fraser’s chest.

“Oh, god, Ray, _please_ ,” Fraser says, and it’s almost a sob.

And then Ray is all over and around him, a leg thrown over his, head on his shoulder, and Ray’s squeezing his cock beautifully perfectly and whispering “Come for me” in his ear and Fraser loses his mind.

He comes so hard that it feels like every muscle locks up. He’s arching up off the mattress, fighting the ropes, and his teeth are chattering, chopping up the yowl coming out of his mouth into short sharp barks.

It goes on for a long time, and when he’s finally done he feels more completely limp than he ever has in his memory. Limp and heavy, like he weighs twice as much as usual, like he’s sinking into the mattress.

Ray’s face looms into his line of sight and Fraser blinks. Even his blinking feels liquid, languid.

“Jesus,” Ray says. “You okay?”

“Glorious,” Fraser manages.

“That was _something_.”

Ray undoes the ropes, rubs at his wrists and ankles a bit, then wraps around him and just holds him for a while. 

Fraser’s almost drifted off when Ray climbs out of bed. Fraser makes dissenting noises at this plan of action, but within a few minutes all is forgiven when Ray reappears with a towel and a sandwich and a glass of water. At the first whiff of turkey Fraser suddenly realizes how _ravenous_ he is, and bolts the sandwich down while Ray cleans him up a little.

Ray takes the saucer out of his hand, turns off the bedside lamp and pulls the covers up over them, leaving an arm thrown across Fraser’s chest.

“You are so good to me,” Fraser says.

“Coulda fooled me when you were cussing me out a little while ago,” Ray says, and snickers.

“Well,” Fraser says. “Largely good, but with a wide evil streak which I enjoy immensely,” and rolls halfway over to put his head on Ray’s shoulder, and drifts off to sleep with Ray petting his hair.


End file.
